


Fukujusou

by MinawaKitten



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, M/M, Miscommunication, Past Child Abuse, Possession, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Survivor Guilt, god damn sanson keeps attracting trouble, its not the ot3 or any variation of it thats abusive, oh god its on fire, something funky is going on scoob
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-28 14:28:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30140949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinawaKitten/pseuds/MinawaKitten
Summary: Fukujusou/Adonis amurensis, a flower that means 'eternal or inviting happiness' or 'sad memories' via hanakotobaAfter a rather tragic mission, Guydelot falls into a coma and Sanson has to keep living despite the guilt. Years pass and Guydelot finally awakens but, what does that mean for the two of them as things are no longer the same. Shall the love they once had bloom into something beautiful or will it wilt away?aka takes idea from sanguy discord and runs wild
Relationships: Guydelot Thildonnet/Warrior of Light, Sanson Smyth/Guydelot Thildonnet, Sanson Smyth/Guydelot Thildonnet/Warrior of Light, Sanson Smyth/Original Character, Sanson Smyth/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Prologue

"There is nothing to discuss." Sanson Symth simply states, his back turned and carefully sorting through his papers. To an untrained eye it would look like he's simply trying to focus on his work but Guydelot knows him so much better. The way Sanson flips through the papers with that such speed speaks of hesitation and fear. He's too afraid to look him in the eye. Is this dumbass real?! Is he honestly trying to put the blame for what happened on himself?

"Don't give me that shit." Guydelot spits, thoroughly frustrated with how dismissive the other is acting.

"If you have nothing to discuss about the unit I advise you leave." Sanson's tone is surprisingly cutting. Something dominant that demanded absolute respect. Guydelot's brain sputters as the Hyur dares to glance over his shoulder, giving him a peek of rugged scars and an eyepatch. With that intense look, everything Guydelot wanted to say died in his throat and yet, his heart skips a beat just a bit. Sanson, the Sanson he's recalls, had soft boyish features, all that he adored, but that. . . that clearly wasnt the case anymore.

Guydelot finds himself surprisingly overwhelmed and he slowly, and a bit awkwardly, walks out backwards of the Bard Unit office until he's in the hall once more, his back pressed against the wall. Slowly, he slides down the wall until he finds himself sitting, his face in his hands.

Gods. How long has he . . . how long has he been in a coma? The memories are fuzzy, disjointed and hard to recall, but he remembers protecting Sanson before it blacked out. But really, that's all there is to it. As much as he hates it, he should visit the Adder's Nest. There had to be a write up on the mission they went on together. Something to help him piece it all together. 

* * *

Now that he looks about, Gridania is familiar and yet it's not. He wouldn't say any major changes have occurred but it doesnt quite fit in all the places. The changes really are minor, shop fronts being updated, new flowers introduced to the environment or numerous new faces to the city-state. Things have clearly changed but the Adder's Nest is in the same place and overall, looks the same.

Commander Heuloix is standing in the same place, as always, but it clearly surprised to see him. The Commander swiftly performs the salute of the Adders and Guydelot half heartedly does as well. To be honest, he's far too exhausted but the man was the only one who gave a shit when Sanson was taken captive so as far as he's concerned, he deserves that respect. . . Even if he's tired as hell. His exhaustion must be showing on his face as Heuloix guides him over to the row of seats against the wall.

"I'm surprised to see you." He admits. Guydelot rolls his eyes, his gaze drifting back to his crooked fingers on his primary hand. He cant seem to recall how this happened. Was it sometime during that mission? He frowns a bit, clenching and unfurling his fist. It's sore. He's sore. Again, he wonders how long has he been asleep.

"Aye." Guydelot finally murmurs. "I'm not one to visit the Nest after all." He lets out a weak chuckle and rubs the back of his neck, clearly at a loss.

"I'm referring to your injuries to be honest." Heuloix admits. "You were in a sorry state when you were brought back to Gridania after. . . that mission." He doesnt like the way the man looks troubled as he mentions this mission. Guydelot cant remember a single thing of it for the life of him. Was it truly that awful? Perhaps it was if Sanson had changed so much as a result of it.

"I'm fine." He assures the commander. If anything Heuloix looks even more troubled by the fact he simply states that.

"That's not an assessment I can agree with unfortunately. The Conjurer Guild made it clear it would be a miracle if you woke up after everything that happened. Even if you did, you would have. . . complication and seeing how you're struggling to get around, it seems that is true as well." 

Guydelot wants to object but even he knows that's not a lie. He's noticed it as well as he tried to race around to find Sanson. At first, he excused his quick onset of exhaust with the thought that he just woke up so his body wasn't quite awake yet but if he was seriously injured, of course he would struggle to keep it together for so long. Again and again, he cant help but wonder how the hell this happened. It's a complete and utter blank. In the end, when Heuloix offers to find the mission report for him, Guydelot accepts with no hesitation. He needs to know. He needs to understand. 

* * *

_You find darkness around yourself. The void echoes around you with each step. It's unsettling to say the least but you have to keep going. You're not going to leave Sanson behind. Everything with Nourval was too close of a call that you never want to be far from him ever again. Having him taken from you, his abuse in captivity and the awkward smiles he would give you on occasion filled you with nothing but concern for him. He was still hurting and felt guilty for being taken captive in the first place that he's going to overwork himself to 'make up' for it._

_He's such a damn fool for that. Cant he tell that he's enough? He's already a wonderful captain and he is a bard in all but song and music, he can truly inspire the trainees for sure._

_There's a torch in your hand now. You dont even question how or why. It's always been there, hasn't it?_

_Either way it shines enough of a light in the area around you that you can see Sanson is just up ahead. A smile spreads across your face and your feet move just a little faster to reach his side._

_"Sanson! What are you doing here in the dark? Come on now!" With a smile on your face, you make a motion for him to come closer but he doesn't move. He keeps staring ahead. Something cold drops into the pit of your stomach. Something isn't right. Then, Sanson laughs. Haunted and so distorted. Him and yet it's not._

_Sanson turns his head slowly, the sight that greets you causes you to drop the torch with a start. The flame flickers out as it falls into a puddle but you cannot unsee the visage of Sanson's beautiful blue eyes nothing but ink blackness with black ichor that oozes like tears. You can feel his very presents before you. Hands -- sharp like claws-- grab your cheeks and pull you down to his height where his breath tickles your face in the darkness._

_**"Sanson’s Heart Is Mine And Yours Is Next, Guydelot Thildonnet."** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk how long this will be or how long it will last, i jsut have ideas and i wanted to get them out,,,,


	2. Tensions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh god i dropped a box of matches into the angst pit, its now an angst fire!!

"Sanson." He cant help but sigh when he hears someone shouting at him. The audacity of people can be amazing sometime. Even then, what do they have to complain about? His unit is in perfect health, in perfect order and perfectly put together - they've perfectly executed their missions without any sort of issues at all. There's not a single thing out of place about it. "Sanson!" The voice demands a bit harsher than before. He rolls his eye before lowering his papers and turning his chair around to face the person and much to his rather pleasant surprise, he finds his partner -- and Warrior of Wind -- Daren Soule.

His harsher features seem to melt away as he smiles gently and oh so warmly to the Miqo'te. He happily sets his papers aside and rises to his feet, the tips of his fingers brushing against the surface of the desk as he rounds it. To an untrained eye, none would think nothing of it, but Daren furrows his brows and bites his tongue. It's too obvious to him that Sanson has once again hurt himself on the job and brushed aside his own injuries. 

It's so annoying to see the man he loves do these things to himself but that's not why he's here now. How can this idiot look at him with that smile and warm expression, as if there isn't something wrong here. Daren has desperately tried to give Sanson space to cope with what has happened when he needed it and was there to support him when he needed to cry but, has he not realized this was hard on him too?

Sure, he was still recovering from the trauma as his brief time as a Garlean PoW but if he was more put together -- stronger, better, anything! -- he could have been there! It could have gone so differently. But no, he told the two of them it would be fine if they went on that mission without him. So, as far as he was concerned, he is the one at fault. But that doesn't make this okay. Not a single goddamn thing about this is okay!

"Dont give me that sweet talk bullshit." Daren seethes, his red eyes alight with fury. "How long has Guydelot been awake? Why is it I have to learn out mutual boyfriend had woken up from his coma through Commander Heuloix before you?!" Sanson, for all his tact, sputters with surprise.

"B-Boyfriend?!" He shouts, his cheeks flushing a bright red hue. Part of Daren wants to smile, because that's the Sanson he recalls, not the distant man that wears his face, but at the same time that infuriates him all the more. If he's still the kind and generous Sanson he fell in love with, where has he been? Why hasnt he shown his face when he needed support? "You know very well Guydelot and myself never got together!" Daren lets out a deep sigh and rolls his eyes.

"Everyone know you two were into each other!" Daren snaps. "It was never some secret! You two were so obvious!"  
  


* * *

_**  
Everyone knew. It was obvious.  
  
** _

* * *

  
Sanson clenches his teeth and clutches the edge of the desk. Yes. Everyone knew. And that was the greatest downfall of all. Had he kept a tighter lid on his feelings this never would have happened. The suffering of both Guydelot and Daren -- even if the Warrior has been distant with him -- was caused by his failures. That's why he works so hard to keep everything perfect. To make sure anything like that could ever happen again. 

"I don't see why it's my responsibility to tell you." Sanson spits. "You never asked me to do this for you, so why are you assuming it would?" 

And yet, he spits fire at the man he loves dearly. Daren looks outright offended, his eyes growing wide before shooting him a rather serious look.

"He's someone we _BOTH_ care about!" He argues. "It makes perfect sense that news as big as this should be shared!"

"A bold claim for someone who's rarely in Gridania!" Sanson shouts, slamming his hand on the table. He knows it's a terrible the move the moment Daren flinches and recoils away from him. He knows how Daren's father abused him all his childhood or how loud voices and loud noises terrify him but he can't stop this anger coiling in his chest. He's sent letter after letter to Daren, only for them to be ignored and never answered while he ventures the land to help people. He's of course proud of his partner for everything he does for those in need but can't he not see how alone he is here, waiting for him? Or how he feels like a burden to rely on Igrent for comfort all the time?

"You have abandoned this city-state for better places!" Sanson continues, pointing an accusing finger at Daren's fear stricken face. "You choose to leave Guydelot behind! Can you even recall the last time you even bothered to visit him? Or was that too much of a burden for you? You have no right to act as if I'm the problem when you left us behind!"

"Is that. . . Is that honestly what you think?" Daren's voice is so small and it quivers with tears. Immediately regret and grief swarms Sanson. Yes, he was angry, but reducing someone he loved so much to tears was not his objective. He knows. . . he should say something to Daren. At the very least apologize for shouting and hitting things but that's it. He knows everything else he said was nothing but the truth. Even so, it feels like an unbearable hole in his chest has been torn asunder. He lets out a small sigh and takes a step closer but Daren moves out of his grasp. Daren clenches his fists and lifts his head, his red eyes full of fury and tears. "You are a bigger idiot that I dared to believe. You know damn well I came back as often as I could but if you bothered to read a single letter I left you, you would have known I had to leave for Nevegelo for a family emergency. Someone in our fucking family died Sanson. That's where I've been. Or is your unit that fucking important you can't stop, for even a second, to read your damn mail?"

Sanson's mind is reeling. Is Daren serious? He's sent him letters? Messages? That can't be true. Sure, he does not head home often enough but every time he does he checks his mail, hoping and dreaming something from Daren is waiting for him but, there simply hasn't. He hasn't seen anything from Daren in over two years. He wants to say the other is bluffing because this is honestly the first time he's heard of any of this. To make this worse, if Daren had honestly sent him anything he never would have spoken such unkind words in his frustration -- not that would have justified anything but still . . . ! -- but the way the other male stares at him tells him enough. It tells him Daren is dead serious. He stumbles and sputters, clearly at a loss and uncertain on how to continue but Daren finishes it all for him in one move.

"It's over Sanson." Daren sighs, looking so disappointed and drained. "I hope all of this was worth it. I hope the unit was worth ignoring me when I needed support from someone I loved, I hope it was worth ignoring the fact there was an emergency in my family and I hope Igrent gives you everything you fucking wanted because you made it clear, it's all you ever wanted!" With his piece said, Daren marches out of Sanson's office, ignoring the way the other male shouted his name. Oh God. How he wanted to hear Sanson call his name after so long, but not like this. Never like this. He runs as fast as he can into the depths of Gridania.

* * *

Guydelot awakens with a start. He fights and flails with the sheets as he struggles to break free and to sit up. Clutching his chest and panting heavily, his sweat soaked body trembles. It's been a long time since he's had a dream like that. He clenches his teeth, trying to keep it together as he takes deep heaves breaths, his nails digging into his skin. 

Ever since the day he and his unit was sent to Haukke Manor as a second wave to investigate the massive amount of Voidsents he's been haunted. He remembers with such vivid and grotesque detail the way his allies transform before his eyes. Bones cracking and snapping, their screams tearing into high pitch almost animalistic screeches and their flesh burned away in seconds leaving behind a thin leathery hide that stretched over bone. He heard some were worse off, melting and congealing into a disgusting rotten and bloody mass of flesh and blood that inched across the floor.

Guydelot would have ended up just like them if it wasn't for the arrival of the group of adventures lead by Daren himself and one of his clan mates, Shinjiro Aragaki, the Warrior of Lightning. Ax in hand, Shinjiro took a powerful run and jump, slamming directly into the Voidsent, preventing it from casting the dark magic that would have transformed him too.

It's a horrific memory, one that seems so distant after everything, but why is he suddenly recalling it now? He was certain he had this . . . trauma -- If he could honestly call it that. He witnessed it and nothing more. What fear he felt then or even feels now cannot be compared to what his unfortunate allies endured before they had to be mercy killed -- had been resolved. 

Is he. . . Is he forgetting something important?

* * *

Getting out of bed and preparing for the day takes Guydelot shamefully longer than he would have liked to admit. It serves as an unfortunate reminder that his body is seriously messed up, like it or not. He'll need to head to the guild to get an actual rundown of his injuries since he sorta ran off as soon as he could and didn't wait to get properly dismissed or anything. To be honest, he's kinda surprised that no one has come knocking just yet. He groans at the thought before glancing down to his crooked fingers.

Still, can a guy like him even play an instrument or fire an arrow anymore? If he cant . . . what does that mean for him and Sanson? He's rather certain that Daren would happily return to his side the moment he knew he was awake but, despite everything, what he has with Sanson has been strictly a work relationship. His feelings for Sanson have always been a complicated bundle of emotions, starting with him foolishly thinking that the young man cared more about how he looked and where he stood in the Adders, and believing he simply wanted to create a Bard unit purely to ride on their coattails.

Because of that he made no real attempt to understand him but kept his teasing to a minimum on Daren's request. And yet, he found Sanson to be somewhat adorable when he got on his nerves and bickered with him. He had a habit of puffing out his chest and tried to make himself look a little taller but all it did was make him look like an angry kitten if he was going to be honest. It was endearing in its own way. Still, at that time in their relationship, there was no trust. Their personalities clashed far too much for anything to get accomplished and it was cruel of them both to force Daren to be in the middle of it as their mutual partner.

Guydelot would later realize Sanson was most certainly a bard in all but music. He had the combat prowess a bard was known for, their ability to wax poetry about the world around them and an eye for detail and courage to defend those before themselves. He was stupidly reckless about that last detail . . . Sanson was truly glowing in that moment where he was willing to protect Daren and Mogta before himself. 

It was only after that understanding could they begin to properly build a relationship together. All of that began to grow and grow, building until he began to actively search for Sanson during their time off. More than once Daren described him as a fat lazy cat that wanted his owner's attention as he lazed about Sanson office as he worked -- it didn't help that Sanson left some cushions and pillows on the bay window in his office for him to relax and play his harp at his leisure -- and the moment Sanson wanted his opinion on a formation, or anything really, he would bounce over to his side. 

And given the differences in their height, he would lean over Sanson, his breath brushing against his ears that flushed red. He was always so pleased to see him flustered but for someone known to be flirtatious he too was confused by his hesitation to go beyond simply teasing him. He always made himself available if Sanson asked for his assistance in anyway. It was painful to realize how much he sounded like a school girl in love but how could he not adore the hard work and effort Sanson put into everything he did? Sure, he was a bit naïve but he was just so kind, honest and earnest. Sanson is. . . was. . .He's absolutely wonderful.

But of course, everything was shaken up when that tool -- as Daren aptly put it -- appeared. Nourval's entire existence was a blessing and a curse if he's going to be frank. He wasted their time with his nonsensical self-righteous quest, not to mention he made numerous attempts to drive a wedge between him and Sanson. On the other hand, it absolutely thrilled him to hear Sanson say, without a shadow of a doubt, that he trusted him with his life. 

A life he very soon had to fight to protect when Nourval took him captive. It was then, when faced with the very real fear and possibility that he would lose Sanson did he understand how much he cared for him. Thankfully, everything worked out in the end -- Nourval was apprehended and Sanson was safely recovered -- but despite this, he's said nothing about his feelings. 

He simply didn't want his selfish feelings to ruin what they carefully built.

And then, a knock at the door pulls Guydelot from his thoughts. It takes a few moments for him to rise from his bed and approach said door. He jumps a little, surprised to find Daren on the other side, tears streaming from his ruby red eyes. He leans down just a bit, cupping his partner's cheek in his hands. Daren sadly mewls, his ears pressed against his head and his tail between his legs, and leans into Guydelot's palm in a search for comfort.

"Oh Dove, what happened?" He gently asks. Tears bubble up in his partner's eyes once more and Daren whimpers so sadly. The very sound tears at his heart. Guydelot wraps his long arms around Daren, holding him close as he attempts to sooth his tears.

"I'm sorry. . ." Daren weakly whimpers, choking on his tears. "I-I know you just. . . came back a-and I. . ." Guydelot simply kisses the crown of his head before inviting him into his room. He can talk when he wants, whenever he's ready. Until then, he'll comfort his beloved. 


	3. Comfort

Sanson feels rather numb when he arrives home to his shared apartment. Despite all his efforts, his mind couldn't focus on any of the drills or training today, everything returned to the encounter in the office. The way he accused Daren of abandoning both him and Guydelot but apparently he overlooking multiple letters from his. . ex. . . and acting so cruel and irrationally to keep acting a certain way that he knew scared Daren.

Gods. He knew he wasn’t destined to be loved, and now his actions have caused him to toss aside someone who’s loyalty loved him for years. As much as it hurts, he . . . he deserves it he supposes.

Sanson lets out another heavy sigh as he places his coat on the rack by the door. Just as he’s about to turn around and enter the living room, he bumps into the chest of a tall Elzen man. The Elzen smiles gently, placing his hands on Sanson’s shoulders to help steady him.

“Welcome home, love.” The Elzen smiles. Sanson looks up to what remains of his romantic life -- Igrent Vuireur -- who’s warm smile quickly becomes an expression of concern as he brushes Sanson’s long bangs back and wipes the tears from his one visible eye. “Oh dear, what’s wrong, my love?” Sanson quickly shakes his head, already feeling guilty to burden his partner.

“I’m sorry Igrent. Some heavy. . . things occurred today.” The Elzen nods his head understandingly, stroking Sanson’s face with affection.

“How about I put the finishing touches on dinner and warm up the fireplace while you take a bath?” Igrent offers. “We can enjoy the quiet together and you can tell me whenever you're ready, okay?” Sanson thinks on it for several moments before nodding his head.

“I like the sound of that. Thank you.” Sanson quietly sniffles, looking a tad embarrassed that he was crying before his partner but Igrent simply smiles, pressing a kiss to the scar at the corner of his mouth. Sanson stands on the tips of his toes to press a soft kiss to the other male’s lips before parting.

Igrent continues to smile until the tell tale click of the door is heard in the small apartment. He lets out a heavy sigh before approaching the small decorative vase on top the fireplace mantle to produce a single letter in fancy cursive script addressed to Sanson.

Without even blinking he tears the letter up and tosses it into the fireplace, using it as a kindle to keep the fire roaring. He watches the flames for a few moments before kneeling down and letting out a sigh.

“I'll have to find something better than fire to get rid of that stupid charm.” Igrent frowns, poking at the fireplace with the poker, a bored look on his face. Although, it makes him wonder about this Daren Soule if he was able to give Sanson a charm that couldn't be destroyed under normal means.

The Warrior of Hope is ambiguous in just about every historical record -- but if eyewitness accounts are to be believed, apparently they were a woman -- but those same records noted that they apparently had ties to all the Warriors although. . . As meek as they look, having ties to such an ambiguous but powerful warrior, would most likely cause him trouble in the end so he would have to take care of that.

But seriously, can't that brat take a hint already?

Sanson is _his_ lover.

* * *

With dinner prepared, Igrent heads over to Sanson’s room. It is there he finds his beloved, fresh from the bathroom, a towel around his waist and draped over his shoulders. Sanson flushes a bright red and immediately tries to cover his eye injury but Igrent simply smiles, taking the towel off Sanson’s shoulders to help him dry his hair.

“With or without the eyepatch, you look lovely darling.” He smiles gently before pressing a kiss to Sanson’s neck. Sanson makes a small embarrassed sound, trying to hide his flushed face behind his hand while the other holds his towel up.

Igrent’s lips curve into a smile before sinking into the tender skin of his partner’s neck. Sanson keens at the feeling, sinking into Igrent’s arms. The Elzen grins, dragging more kisses along Sanson’s skin as one hand rests on his hip, tugging at the towel. His smaller partner greedily pulls his downwards for a heated kiss that he eagerly returns.

Yes.

This is _his_ beloved and none shall take him.

* * *

Guydelot is fuming. 

Quite frankly he wants to find Sanson and give him a piece of his mind. How far does his head have to be up his ass to be so unaware that there was a loss in Daren’s family? He gets that the Bard unit is something important to Sanson but this is ridiculous but this is Daren he's talking about. And Daren is the kind of person who would rather not make a bigger scene than necessary. 

So Guydelot lays in his bed, Daren curled up in his chest, his tail lithlessly bumping the bed and a sad look on his face. He gently strokes behind his ears, just how he likes it, getting a soft purr out of him. Daren eagerly leans into his hand, looking like the cutest thing he's ever seen. He smiles, softly singing to his beloved.

“M sorry again. . .” Daren mumbles rubbing his face against Guydelot’s chest. The bard simply sighs, kissing the crown of his beloved’s forehead.

“As I've told you Dove, I'll always do my best to support you. “ Daren pouts a bit but quickly wraps his arms around Guydelot’s waist and gazes upon his face with a concerned look.

“Yeah? And what about you? Don't you need support too?” Guydelot couldn't help but crack a smile nor stroke the underside of his chin. 

“Sweet as always Dove, but I don't think your tiny arms could lift me up.”

“I-I'm not that weak!” Daren sputters. “I just don't put on that much muscle!” Guydelot laughs but kisses Daren’s forehead, brushing back long bangs of his hair.

“Even so, having you here is enough right now. I'll have to visit the Conjurer Guild for a proper breakdown of everything eventually.”

“I can go with you if you’d like that.” Daren offers. Guydelot hums, slowly stroking the skin at the back of Daren’s neck, lulling him into a sleepy state. 

“I would like that actually, but don't worry yourself about it right now.” Truthfully, his mind is everywhere and he rather not know exactly what's messed up or not. . . It’s of course something he needs to look into so he can properly care for himself but it’s exhausting. But he. . . “What happened to Sanson.” Again, Daren frowns but he understands why Guydelot would ask such a thing. 

It’s been five long years and the last he can recall of Sanson was a bright, kind young man with high hopes for his Bard unit but now he's become cold and critical, always aiming for perfection with his established unit but the people of Gridiana have become weary of his intensity. It does not paint a pretty picture.

“He. . . He was unresponsive for the first few days.” Daren hesitantly admits. “I was there for him, of course, but it soon became clear he fully blamed himself for what happened. I tried to make it clear that wasn't the case, that no one could have known how powerful that Voidsent was or it would do or say what it said but he wouldn't accept any explanation.” Daren pauses, his tail anxiously curling around Guydelot’s leg as he tries to find the right words. 

He is patient, of course, but anxious all the same time. Something surfaces in his mind but vaguely. They were supposed to recover something. An artifact he supposes, which apparently, a Voidsent was attached to it but beyond that it's numbing silence like static when he tries to dig deeper.

“Sanson worked with a reckless abandon after that. Lock himself away in his office, working tirelessly and rarely eating unless I forced him to. His relationships with others lost their warmth and became purely professional. It was like he was holding everyone at arm's length and he became obsessed with perfection.”

“Perfection? And why would he focus on something so pointless as that?”

“You. . .” Daren sighs once more. “You weren't the only one who was hurt on that mission. We lost a few young aspiring Bards as well.”

Oh. That. . . that must have hurt him quite a bit. Sanson adored each and every member in their unit and poured his heart and soul into helping each of them achieve their best because he believed in each of them and their skill. If anything, he was like a doting parent but still fair and firm to them all. To lose any of them while strongly believing he was the one at fault must have impacted him greatly.

“So he wanted to be ‘perfect’ to avoid that happening ever again. . .” Guydelot whispers mournfully. Daren hums, nodding his head as he presses his face to his partner’s chest.

“His attitude changed a lot and people . . . worry about him. He works the unit hard and it's painful to watch and I've had to tell him to relax before he works them to exhaustion a few times. He’s reckless as ever too. Most of his scars and injuries are from him stepping in to protect the unit but it's exhausting to watch him destroy himself. I doubt Igrent even stops him.” At the mention of this Elzen, Daren makes a rather annoyed expression. No something he does often, which makes Guydelot raise a brow. 

“And who, pray tell, is this Igrent?”

“He's. . .” Daren makes a vague look of discomfort as he flexes his hand. “Sanson’s boyfriend. Some Elzen guy that looks like you.” That . . . quite a load of information at once and yet a snort of indignation escapes Guydelot before he can articulately string together an ‘excuse me WHAT’.

“He looks like me? My darling dove, I know I’m quite charming but thinking of me every time you gaze on an Elzen is quite rude.” Perhaps making a joke is his way to cope with this sudden information. Maybe it's been a long time since he was comatose because, realistically, you shouldn't force yourself to wait for someone you care for to wake from a coma. No one shouldn't pause their life for one person but it doesn't exactly hurt him any less.

Daren, thankfully, looks rather adorable as he blushes a bright red and slaps at his chest.

“Don't be ridiculous!” He belts out loudly but he soon cups his face in his hands. Guydelot smiles just a bit, kissing Daren’s palm, earning an adorable tender look from his partner. “There's no one out there like you. . .” The catboy purrs, gazing into his eyes but that tender look quickly fades to concern. “But, I mean it. Sure different skin tone and hair style and color, but there’s so much of you in his appearance it’s . . . weird. It’s like he's pretending to be you to give Sanson what he’s wanted for so long.”

It honestly sounds like something that could be brushed aside or under the rug at first. It's not too strange to see people looking similar or seeing someone in someone else but the way Daren stresses it, it sounds like this was an intentional act on Igrent’s behalf. And if Daren’s worries are to be founded, what does that say about this guy? A long time crush or suitor for Sanson’s attention? He isn't sure but it sounds rather inappropriate to take on the mannerisms of a person that your target of affection cared dearly for in order to get them interested in themself. 

Perhaps he should ask about this fellow down at the Canopy? Then again, it's questionable how much information he would be able to gather if the guy only recently came to Gridiania. 

There is little time to dwell on this any longer as there's a knock on his door once more. The two of them took between it and each other, a bit confused, but Daren decides to answer on the behalf of the other. Something like a ‘meow’ of surprise escapes Daren, his ears and tail jumping upright the moment he finds Heuloix on the other side of the door. Heuloix has the decency to not look so startled to see the Warrior of Wind in Guydelot’s apparent -- a partner he gladly showed off the moment they were officially together. The two, instead, salute -- Daren’s movements matching his usual awkward and cute self while Heuloix is formal as ever.

“High Commander Daren,” The Elzen greets. Daren quickly nods in response. An awkward one at that but Guydelot finds it cute as always.

“C-Commander Heuloix.” Daren responds in kind. “What brings you here sir?”

“Guydelot requested a copy of the report from that mission.” Now Guydelot can't see Daren’s face but the way his tail twists and curls, he knows his beloved Dove is uncomfortable but he accepts the packet of paper nonetheless.

“I-I see, thank you sir.” The two exchange farewells before Daren shuts the door and returns to the other male’s side. Guydelot takes the offered packet and turns it over, a bit surprised that something written by Sanson could be so light. He usually took great care in transcribing each and every detail he could. It said quite a bit about how traumatic this mission was for him . . .

“Are you sure about reading it so soon?” Daren gently asks, resting an arm on Guydelot’s forearm. Gods no. He wasn’t sure in the slightest but, he simply couldn't ignore it. He knows how he acts and behaves. If it becomes too much for him he’ll simply ‘forget’ about it and this isnt something he can ignore now.

“I'll put it off otherwise so it's now or never.” Guydelot admits. Daren gives him a serious look before nodding his head in understanding, remaining by his side as his hands hover above the seal keeping the envelope close. Well, it was all or nothing now. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonks self on head
> 
> horny
> 
> anyway time to get into the ffffllashbacks


End file.
